


The Two Captains

by for_darkness_shows_the_stars



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Conversations, F/M, Gen, Han Solo Has A Heart of Gold, He also has messed up in-laws, Humour, This was supposed to be funny but kinda got away, in this house we ignore the events of the sequel trilogy, is that a tag, it should be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:35:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24197572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_darkness_shows_the_stars/pseuds/for_darkness_shows_the_stars
Summary: After the Battle of Endor, the two captains talk.Or, Han and Rex compare their Skywalkers.
Relationships: CT-7567 | Rex & Anakin Skywalker, CT-7567 | Rex & Han Solo, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Luke Skywalker & Han Solo, Padmé Amidala & CT-7567 | Rex, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 165





	The Two Captains

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a comment from Skiakitty, many thanks, this is for you.
> 
> Enjoy!!!

It’s the aftermath of the Battle of Endor, and Han is more energetic than he cares to admit. He needs to move, needs to do something, needs to remind himself that it’s all right—they won. They’re all alive. It doesn’t matter if it’s slapping Lando on the back, ruffling Luke’s hair, hugging Chewie, or giving Leia yet another wonderful, perfect, thrilling kiss.

The party rages on until wee hours of the night—the drinks flow in fountains, the music shows no sign of stopping, and neither do the rebels.

But in the morning, the sun slowly peeks its shy light over the treetops, and even the revelry dies down.

Leia is asleep next to him on one of the Ewoks’ huts, looking as angelic as ever, Luke has gone … somewhere, to mourn a loss no-one really understands.

Han can’t sleep. It’s ridiculous, he knows, considering what an exhausting day he’s had. But he can’t.

He plants a featherlight kiss on Leia’s brow and slowly, as not to wake her, he leaves their cot and goes outside.

The signs of the party are still there—extinguished pyres, Rebels and Ewoks alike asleep in all positions and all locations, Stormtrooper helmets impaled on Ewoks’ spears … he remembers being tied to a spit and roasting over a fire, and immediately decides he _does not want to know_ what happened to those troopers.

He wanders a bit, lost in thought, when he feels a gaze on his back. His hand slowly inches towards a blaster strapped to his hip, and he whirls, the barrel pointed at the source of disturbance.

The disturbance in question is a human man, well into his sixties, from what Han can gather from his appearance. His skin is a warm shade of brown, his features strong and handsome despite his age. His head is shaved, but he still has a beard—snow white.

There is a crinkle in the man’s amber eyes, and a smile on his lips. All in all, his bearing seems to communicate _Do you really think you can accomplish something with that little thing_?

And well—Han can respect that, and besides, there’s the Alliance insignia painted on the man’s armoured shoulder.

It’s enough for Han to lower the weapon.

“There,” the man speaks, with a heavy accent Han can’t quite place, “that wasn’t so hard, now, was it?”

Han cocks his head. The man’s a Rebel, but most Rebels are weird. He should know, since he’s fairly certain he and Chewie are the only sane people on this moon.

“Who are you?”

The man—soldier, Han can tell from his mannerisms, grins. “The name’s Rex.”

“Han.”

“I know,” the soldier, Rex, says.

“Yeah,” Han replies, squinting, “I’m not sure if I find that creepy.”

Rex rolls his amber eyes. “Squeamish children, all of you.” The implied insult is only in his words, as there’s nothing in his tone or expression to indicate otherwise. In fact, Rex talks in the same tone one would use when speaking of a pet.

Han, who’d spent quite a lot of time explaining to Chewie, that _no_ , _he is not a pet_ , isn’t as offended as he should probably be.

“That’s not the term I’d use,” he tells the soldier, leaning against a tree.

Rex laughs. “I often wonder how long you all would have lasted in the Clone Wars.”

Here, Han’s brows shoot up all the way to his hairline. “The Clone Wars? You fought in the Clone Wars?”

“So I did,” Rex says, drawing himself up.

“As an officer … no.” Han frowns. He’d rarely seen the faces of the clone troopers, back in the day, when he was a child. They were always shown with their helmets, but he _had seen_ them.

“As a clone.”

Rex juts out his chin, challenging, and Han raises his arms in a surrender gesture. “I didn’t say anything,” he protests.

Though he knows it can’t be easy—crafted for war, forced to betray their commanders, forced to _kill_ them, and then, on top of that, having to face the people’s murmurs.

Rex seems to relax at that, but only after throwing a calculating gaze in Han’s direction.

“So …” Han says, in an attempt to break the tension, “ _why_ exactly do you know who I am?”

Rex laughs, and lowers himself to the ground, wincing as he does it. A wave of pity overcame Han, for all that he didn’t show any of it. The clones are cursed with accelerated aging. Despite his looks, Rex may very well be younger than Han.

“I know you,” the soldier tells him, “mostly because of your companions.”

Han blinks. “My companions? As in, Luke and Leia?”

Rex’s lips curve into a small, sad smile. “I …” he says, and his voice is softer than ever before, “I needed but to take one look at the two of them to know whose children they were.”

Han stiffens, the newly discovered information ratting in his head, but Rex raises a placating hand.

“Peace, Solo. I know what became of their father … and their mother.”

“They don’t.”

There’s a flash of pain across Rex’s face, disappeared in a moment, replaced by amusement. “I may be one of the few people to know for sure what those two felt for each other.”

Han doesn’t know what he means, and he even though he’s curious, he knows that it’s not his place to hear. Perhaps when Luke and Leia awaken …

He voices as much, and Rex agrees.

He flashes another melancholic smile, and mutters, “At least they’re less reckless than their parents.”

Han snorts. “I don’t know where you get your illusions, old man, but there ain’t no-one more reckless than those two.”

“No … I suppose there isn’t,” Rex says, some sort of sad wonder on his face. “Not anymore, at least.”

Han dislikes seeing the sorrow on the man’s face. It occurs to him, then, as weird as it is, than Luke might not be alone in his mourning.

“I think,” he says, “that you need to prove it to me.”

“Prove what?”

“That your Skywalker is—was—crazier than mine.”

Rex grins. “All right, But since you have two, I think it’s only fair that I am allowed to include Senator Amidala.”

Han blinks. “The name sounds familiar,” he says.

“She was a senator in the Old Republic,” Rex explains. “And one of the founders of the Rebellion.”

“Oh.” Han collects himself soon enough. “And why, exactly, do you get to include her?”

It’s Rex’s turn to be confused. “Because she’s Luke and Leia’s mother.”

Oh. _Oh._

“You mean to tell me,” Han hisses, under his breath, “That Darth- _kriffing_ -Vader had kids with one of the founders of the Alliance?!”

Rex, the bastard, actually _smiles_. “No, of course not. I mean to imply that they were married.”

Han _gapes_ , and Rex goes on. “That will make my first argument—married in secret after the First Battle of Geonosis, despite the fact that she was a Nabooan noblewoman and the former queen of the planet, and he the bastard son of a slavewoman and a Jedi.”

Okay, that was far, _far_ too much to wrap his mind around.

Han gulps, and goes to land his own blow. “Luke and Leia stole a Star Destroyer and used it to breach a blockade around a planet.”

Rex whistles, clearly impressed. “The General did something similar, over Ryloth.” _He did?_ “But he didn’t have to steal a Star Destroyer, he simply used one, a damaged one, of our own. Flew it straight through the blockade and escaped in the last moment.”

Han can’t help but grin, and _gods_ , it’s weird to think of ol’ Tin Can like that. But it’s also … liberating, somehow. Something about defeating his demons, making his fears into sources of amusement.

But despite his own complicated feelings on the matter, Han will not back down. “Quite some time ago,” he says, “Leia gave me and Luke a mission—I can’t recall the particulars, but we needed money, and I lost it. So Luke, the bright soul he is, suggested we turn him in for his bounty, and then break him out afterwards.”

Rex’s brows shoot up. “You contemplated … how did that resolve itself?”

Han makes a face. “We ended up transporting a bunch of smelly animals on the _Falcon_. It was a nightmare.”

“Hmm …” Rex strokes his chin in a manner reminiscent of Old Ben Kenobi— _Obi-Wan Kenobi, the General, the Negotiator_ , his mind reminds him.

He realizes that the mannerism might very well have been learned from Kenobi—after all, if Rex spent so much time with the Tin Can, he probably spent it with Kenobi as well.

It prompts him to ask. “How exactly do you know Vader?”

Rex flinches at the name, but it’s not in surprise. He looks … resigned. “How could I not? I served under him in the war. Captain of the 501st Legion.”

Han shudders. These days, the 501st is known as _Vader’s Fist._ He doesn’t say anything, though.

Rex must read his thoughts from his face, somehow, because he sighs. “I know what you’re thinking. And you’re _wrong._ ”

“No disrespect, Captain, but I don’t see how,” Han says, feeling affronted. This is the man who’s tortured him and Leia, cut off Luke’s hand. Who’d slaughtered thousands, nay, millions.

It would be so much easier if Rex didn’t look so _tired_. Not angry, not defensive. Just … tired, tired and resigned.

“I don’t know,” he says, voice hoarse, “what _happened._ I don’t know how … or why … he became what he did, even if I have my guesses. But I _knew_ my general.”

“All right,” he tries. “Does that mean you also knew Kenobi?”

Rex nods. “He was my brother Cody’s general.” He gives Han another sad smile. “He and General Skywalker,” and how _weird_ was it, to hear than name in conjunction with Vader, “were inseparable. A team. _The_ Team.”

Han … Han has no idea what to say. But he knows he wants to wipe that sad look off Rex’s face. “Your turn.”

Rex looks up. “Senator Amidala once punched another senator in front of the police and Palpatine.”

“WHAT?!”

Rex only seems amused. “I don’t know the whole story. I wasn’t there, you see. I only know what the general told me, and _he_ knew what the Senator and the Chancellor— _Palpatine_ told him. But apparently, the senator in question had murdered her … uncle, I think? I mean, she was human, and the man a Rodian, so I don’t exactly know how did that work, but …” he shrugs.

“I see,” Han says. “Wow. And I though Tin Can was the crazy one.”

Rex chuckles. “Many people made that assumption back in the day. But I assure you, Kenobi and Amidala were just as crazy. Crazier, even.”

Han sits down, shifting for a bit until he found a comfortable enough position. He smiled wearily, and leans his head against the tree. The bark is rough, and digs into his scalp, but he doesn’t care.

“Huh,” he says. “So the crazy doesn’t come exclusively from Tin Can’s side of the family?”

Pain flashes in Rex’s eyes, but it’s gone in a blink. “It would appear so,” he says softly.

Han feels … gods, if only he knew.

He goes on the only way he knows. “Luke walked, unarmed, into Jabba the Hutt’s palace.”

He sees Rex’s eyes widen. “He didn’t.”

Han smiles. “He did. To—to rescue me.” He doesn’t feel like giving Rex the particulars of _that_. It is clear his feelings regarding Tin Can are complicated enough as it is, he doesn’t need to add to that.

Rex, bless him, doesn’t stay silent for long. “How much do you know about Clone Wars history?”

Han grimaces. “Not much. Some battles. The strategies they taught in the Imperial Academy.”

Apparently, it’s the right thing to say, because Rex just _beams_. “Battle of Bothawui.”

Han startles. “Bothawui? _The_ Bothawui?” He shakes his head. “No way.”

“Yes way,” the other one chuckles. “I was there, after all.”

“He chased us through an asteroid field,” Han says, “with the _Executor._ I really shouldn’t be surprised.”

Rex laughed. It was a nice sound, deep and resonant. “That’s a point in my favour, don’t you think, Captain Solo?”

Han blinked. Oh. Right. Well, better try to salvage that. “Luke may have walked in Jabba’s palace unarmed … but it was Leia who killed the bastard. Strangled him with the very chains he put on her.”

Rex whistles, looking very, very impressed, and Han can’t help but beam with pride. That’s his Leia. His beautiful, ruthless, perfect Leia.

“I didn’t see it,” he continues. “I was half-blind at the time, from the carbon freeze. But …” he grins, and it’s nothing like the cocky smile he usually sports, or the goofy one that Luke teases him about. It’s vicious. “The consequences for the entire Outer Rim and the Hutt Cartels have been … dire.”

There is a gleam in Rex’s eye, one that tells him _yes, yes, yes._

“Did the Tin Can ever encounter Jabba?”

He isn’t sure why he asked, but now that he did, he’s rather curious.

Rex nods. “It was in the early days of the war. I don’t know all the political nonsense surrounding that mess, but Jabba’s kid had been kidnapped, and he offered whoever got him back first the use if his hyperlanes.” There are lines of unease around Rex’s eyes, his lips. He isn’t comfortable with whatever he’s thinking of. “There was a race, you see. Between us and the Seppies. In the end, the General and the Commander got the kid back to Tatooine first.” He scoffs. “Turns out, the Seppies abducted him in the first place, with the help of Jabba’s nephew.” He grins again. “It was Senator Amidala who figured out that part.”

Han laughs.

“He also pushed me off a wall, once, on Geonosis,” Rex continues, seemingly idly.

“Okay, okay, wait,” Han says, holding up a hand. “That demands some clarification.”

The soldier simply smiles, and sets off into a tale of the Second Battle of Geonosis, which includes hive-mind aliens, children trapped in rubble, and mind-controlling worms. By the end of it, Han’d be sure Rex was messing with him, if it weren’t for that same melancholic gleam in his eyes.

Not to be outdone, Han tells a story of his own, and on and on they go, until even the rebels awake, and a new day starts.

Later, standing on a balcony of one of the Ewoks’ houses, Han breathes in.

The Death Star II is destroyed. The Emperor is dead.

Vader is too, and apparently, he isn’t as bad as they previously thought. That’s a strange concept, and the tales Rex told him, Luke’s fretful stammering all mix with his own experiences of the Sith, into what seems to be a jello of contradictory claims and weird magic. Yeah … he sure as hell doesn’t want to get into that any time soon.

But he breathes in.

A new era of galactic history has begun.


End file.
